


What Is Your Reason

by Allykatt



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mentions of Rape, first fanfic, hurt comfort, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:59:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allykatt/pseuds/Allykatt
Summary: The new Central Forty Six decides Ichigo is too much of a threat to be left alone they fake his death and give him to Captain Mayuri. After years of experimentation he hardly know who he or what he fights for.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“He is a danger for Soul Society and all that we stand for.” Said an indistinguishable figure behind a plaque inscribed with the number twenty-three.

“Unpredictable and apt to disobey orders.”

“What is stopping him from turning on us whenever he sees fit?” Followed Number Forty-Five.

“He has shown himself to be an ally in the past.” Contested Number Thirteen.

“Because our goals aligned with his own. He has continually decided to play jury and judge, doing what he believes is right for himself and not what is best for everyone.” Twenty-three countered.

“He must be eliminated before he destroys our very foundations!” Number Forty-One interjected with a elderly crackling voice.

“But we must know more! The mistakes of our predecessors shall not be repeated!”

“If I may make a suggestion…” A silky voice behind the number thirty-nine began. “Give the boy to Division Twelve and see that he is neutralized as a threat.”

Silence followed that suggestion and the Central Forty-Six took time to mull over the idea.

“The people will not like it. He has influence over far to many of the ranks and his insolence has been spreading like a disease.”

“It will be done in secret, no one unnecessary will be any the wiser.”

“It could work. His soul makeup is completely unique, no one knows how it will react when it’s living vessel is no more.”

“Have we decided? All in favor of confining Kurosaki to the Twelfth Division under the supervision of Captain Kurotsuchi?” Forty four of the members of the ruling government of Soul Society held up a card showing their affirmative.

“Those in opposition?” Only two were shown to disagree.

“Then it is decided. Sou Taicho, see that this matter is taken care of.”

The Caption of the First Division's face was unreadable as he bowed and left the chamber of the Forty Six.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three figures stood in the official meeting room for the Gotei Thirteen. Normally the room would be lined with the highest ranking shinigami for their monthly reports on the running of Soul Society and security of the living world. Today, however, was not one such meeting and was to be held under the utmost discretion.

“Captain Kurotsuchi, Captain Soi-Fong, thank you for your prompt arrival.” The Captain Commander began.

The aforementioned captains inclined their heads. Soi-Fong with an expressionless face and Kurotsuchi with his usual condescending aura.

“Under orders from the Central Forty Six, Substitute Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo is to be confined or eliminated. He has been deemed to be too erratic and dangerous to be allowed to enter the cycle of souls. As such he will confined to the Twelfth Division for study as you see fit Captain Kurotsuchi.”

A grin stretched across the Captain’s face at the thought of having unrestricted access to the hybrid. It was an uncomfortable thing to look at and the Commander was glad he had years of experience controlling the shudder that wanted to race up his spine at the near manic expression.

“Captain Soi-Fong” the woman straightened at her address. “What is the earliest that you can handle his capture?“

“Sir, we have been planning for the eventuality that the ryoka boy would become a threat from the beginning and have had contingency plans in place for this occasion.”

“Squad Twelve has also anticipated this opportunity and have prepared accordingly.” Kurotsuchi interjected.

“Accompany me to the Twelth and I will provide you with a concoction of my own creation. It will assist you greatly in the capture of the ryoka. It was specifically created to neutralize Kurosaki’s reiatsu and to keep it suppressed until he is given the antidote.”

Soi Fong acknowledged his offer with a nod.

“And Captain Soi Fong.” The Commander continued “Do to the boy’s popularity amidst the Gotei Thirteen this must look like a natural occurrence. No one may ever know of the decisions made in regards to the boy.”

“Understood Captain, leave it to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ichigo jolted awake by the disorienting, but not unfamiliar, feeling of his soul being separated from his living body.

“What the fuc-“ he couldn’t even finish the expletive before a needle jabbed into his neck and he fell into a boneless heap at the feet of the Squad Two Captain.

She stepped over his prone spiritual body to inspect his now empty living shell. Placing her hands over the body’s heart she recited a kiddo only taught to those in the stealth division. Her hands glowed as the body benether her palm began to shudder and twitch. It jolted one last time and lay still.

The petite woman took one last look at the prone body before hoisting Ichigo onto her shoulders. The sight would be comical in any other circumstance due to their size differences, but there was no looker to find humor at the sight. Only the stoic Captain of the Gotei Thirteen would ever be witness to such a spectacle and she no longer had the ability to find joy in her duty. She opened the senkaimon and disappeared from the world of the living.

~~~~~~~

The sun was blazing down on the roof that made up the Gotiel Thirteens military operations. It would have been uncomfortable if not of the gentle breeze flirting through the maze of walls and buildings. The weather was far too nice for there to be a Captains meeting, Shunsui privately thought. A day like this was far better suited to a relaxing nap under the shade of a tree, or lounging on the couch admiring his Vice-Captain as she practically ran the division for him. Maybe even meeting up with Mastumoto for a drink while she avoided her paperwork.

He was brought out of his musing at the sharp rap of the Captain Commander’s cane on the wooden floor of the meeting hall as Capital Kenpatchi kept his reputation of being the last to arrive and sauntered into his place.

“Now that you have all arrived to my summons.” The Commander started with a glare at the Captain of the Eleventh Squad, who decidedly ignored this while wriggling his pinky in his ear. He swore that brat of his got some sugary saliva in their while she was yelling directions at him through the fistfulls of candy she had shoved into her mouth.

“It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you of the death of the former Substitute Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo.”

Silence and widened eyes met this announcement and the Caption Commander continued.

“Due to the unique makeup of the boy’s soul, we do not know how the death of his living body will effect him. So far there has been no trace of the boy in the living world or Soul Society.

“Patrols will be set in the districts of the Rukongai in preparation of his soul appearing. Be under alert, his state of mind is unknown and we cannot discount the fact that he may have lost control of his hollow powers. If found he must be approached with caution. This is information only to those member of you squads who may have known Kurosaki personally. However to anyone else in the Gotei Thirteen Kurosaki never existed.”

“Dismissed!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ichigo’s eyes snapped open and he involuntarily flinched back from the white light assaulting his vision. Banging his head against the chill steel surface that he found himself bound to.

“Fuck!” He tried to sit up but found the restraints around his ankles and wrists unrelenting. He tried to raise his spiritual pressure, which would usually give him enough of a boost to easily snap metal. But where he used to have oceans of barely contained power at his disposable, his reiatsu felt like mud; heavy and slippery. It was right beneath his skin but impossible to grab on to and bring to the surface.

With panic setting in he used what mobility he had to turn his head to look at his surroundings.

He was in what appeared to be a lab. Above his was an obnoxiously bright light that, combined with the steril white walls of the room, made his eyes water. There were no windows and only one door, which was firmly shut. Next to him was a steel tray covered in various surgical equipment; scalpels of varying sized, clamps, syringes filled with suspicious fluids in sickly hues and a wicked looking hand saw that would have been more in place in a woodshop than a medical facility.The far wall was lined with cylindrical glass chambers filled with an unsettling glowing yellow-green fluid. The scent of formaldehyde hung thick and heavy in the air, strong enough that it he couldl taste it.

Ichigo was reminded of Syazel’s lab in Las Noches and his stomach churned at the memories of what that mad man had done to his “experiments”. But they had killed Syazel and destroyed his lab, so where the hell was he?

“So you’re finally awake? Humph! It certainly took you long enough to come to. You really have no respect to how valuable my time is, boy!”

Ichigo whipped his head around hoping against hope that the voice did not belong to who he thought it did. Standing on the side of the table he was strapped to was a scowling Kurotsuchi Mayuri and a step behind him was Nemu with her head bowed.

“What the hell! Let me out of here you insane bastard! I have finals next week and whatever Soul Society is trying to pull can fucking wait!” He pulled against his restraints, but they were unrelenting and he did more damage to his wrists than the straps.  
“Silence! You have been deemed more trouble than you are worth and as such have been given to me to do with as I see fit.” Kurotsuchi sniffed, showing his disdain.

“Honestly if the Captain Commander had even an iota of respect of my work I would have been given you from the start. So now I am years behind on where I should be with my research! At least the new Central Forty Six understands the importance of what I can learn from you. Slow as they are to make a decision.”

Ichigo's eyes widened at that information.

“They can’t do that! We made an agreement after the war! I wouldn’t do more than regular shinigami duties around Karakura and I could stay in the living world until my human body died! I’m still in fucking collage! And I never agreed to be you goddamned lab rat!”

Kurostach tisked in irritation and walked closer to the operating table. He selected a scalpel from the tray and loomed over Ichigo. He lowered the blade of the scalpel into Ichigo's chest, below his sternum, and cut a precise line vertically down his chest ending at his navel.

Ichigo hissed in pain and clenches his eyes shut. He had had much worse injuries in the past, but there was no addrenilain from a fight to dull the pain. The cut stitched itself together, leaving nothing behind but smooth skin and a thin line of blood to show it was ever there.

“Fascinating, I had heard you had instant regeneration from you hollow side but I could only guess how effective it would be outside of a combat situation. Nemu! Give the subject a dose of Formula One.”

Without a word Nemu approached the table and stabbed a syringe into the side of Ichigo’s neck, causing him to flinch in pain. Kurotsuchi once again sliced down Ichigo’s chest, following the line of blood left from his previous cut and stepped back to watch it seal itself again at a much slower rate.

“Nemu, report!”

“Sir, after the injection of Formula One, the Subject’s healing factor time has decreased by fifty percent.” The clown faced captain grinned and signaled her to give another dose, which she promptly did.

He cut another line down the length of Ichigo’s body, grin stretching wider when blood continued to spill from the incision and it showed no sign of healing. He made two perpendicular cuts to his original one. One on top and one son the bottom creating a gruesome “I” on Ichigo's chest. The Captain of the Twelf inserted both hands into the center line and pulled the layers of skin and muscle to the side exposing Ichigo’s organs to the air.

Ichigo arched his back off the table and opened his mouth in a silent scream as he felt Kurotsuchi rummage around his internal organs . The scent of his own blood clogged his nostrils and he could hear the steady drip of his blood falling from this side of the table and onto the stone floor.

“You are certainly an incredible subject. You should feel honored that you get to have my individual attention until I wring every scrap of information of your unique makeup out of you.”  
Kurostach patten Ichigo’s cheek in what would have been a comforting gesture from someone else. But Ichigo found no comfort in the streaks of his own blood left on his cheek mixing with the tears that he couldn't stop from flowing from his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I thought I had the whole thing written out, but I am a dumb-dumb and only wrote what I really liked and then some vague bullet points that I needed to actually put in. I hate this chapter because it's mostly explanations and set up but it needs to be there so oh well. 
> 
> On the bright side I was so frustrated writing this chapter that I put it off by writing a bit of the next one so that should be out soon-ish.

The man woke with a start. He did not know who or what he was. He used to know. He used to have a name, but that no longer had enough meaning for him to remember it. He knows he used to have power and a reason to wield that power. He used to have people to protect, people who had loved and how had loved him. They had names once, probably still did, but he no longer new them.

All he knew was pain and fear. And sometimes Fever. The Fever was the worst, it rarely happened. It was the only time he had company in his cell, and, the only time he wished he didn't. 

They did things to him. Things that his sweltering body revealed in but his mind screamed against. Things that quenched the searing fire in his body for a time, until it started again. He didn’t know how long they stayed, only that when his body cooled down they left until the Fever came back.

He hardly ever saw The Clown anymore. At first he was grateful, The Clown was awful, bringing the scent of chemicals and blood with his visits. But he would do almost anything to have The Clown and his knives back instead of his Fevers and Companions. 

The Clown was not there now. He would only come a few weeks after The Fever died down and his companion was removed by The Doll. The Clown would look him over and become angry and yell while The Doll watched with blank face. And then they would leave until he had another Fever.

He was brought out of his trance by his entire world shuddering. The room he had been confined to for longer than he knows was crumbling. A large chunk of ceiling fell, nearly crushing him. Natural sunlight flooded into the room. Showing off the unsightly stains that decorated the once pristine floor and walls. He had to clench his eyes shut against the radiance blinding him. The light of his cell had never changed for as long as he had been confined to it and the brightness caused a shock to his system.

“Damn Kurosaki, they really did a number on you.” He knew that voice, it was the sound of violence and adrenaline.

“If this is how they treat allies than I’d hate to see what happened to their enemies.” 

He felt his restraints- useless as they were, he couldn’t remember the last time he had the strength to fight- fall away, and some sort of cloth was dropped on him to conceal his nakedness. 

The faint scent of citrus and pine wafted from the cloth and he inhaled deeply, finding something indescribable in the aroma. He felt more secure with the scent in his nose than any other time in his memory. 

There was a note to the scent that was distinctly familiar. Occasionally his Companions that he was locked in with during his Fevers had the same undertone. But that was where the similarities ended, the Companion always smelled disgusting to him. Animalistic with hints of blood and rot. 

He curled into the fabric, grateful for the warmth it gave him as well as modesty. When was the last time he was given the courtesy of being covered? He couldn’t remember. A hand waved in front of his face. 

“Don’t tell me twenty years took all the fight out of you? I thought you were tougher than that.”

Twenty years? He didn’t know if that felt too long or too short of a time for his confinement. 

He felt himself being lifted into a pair of muscular arms and was almost overwhelmed by the aroma of citrus and pine. He nuzzled closer to the scent, filling his nose and feeling a spark of something other than pain, fear and boredom for the first time in years.

“Damn, I didn’t expect you to be so forward. Your little friends would be ashamed of you, fraternizing with the enemy and all that. But, seeing the state you’re in, I'd be surprised if they even gave two fucks about you.”

Friends? He didn’t have any friends. The only thing he had ever had were The Clown, The Doll and his Companions. 

He was torn out of his thoughts as the individual carrying him moved at breakneck speed before stopping abruptly.

“Report.” He heard a new voice state. He couldn’t look at the new person, his eyes still clenched tight against the onslaught of blinding natural light. 

He sniffed the air trying to get a read on the man. But the area surrounding him thick with the scent of whoever was holding him, as well as the metallic reek of old blood and sweat that clung to him from his confinement. 

“I got him, but who knows if he’s even worth bringing back. It looks like they broke him.“ 

He could feel the barest hint of indignation stir in his mind at that. He felt like that was a comment he wouldn’t let slide if he had the will to say anything against it. 

But it was true, wasn't it? He didn’t feel whole, not that he knew what whole felt like. But he must have been at some point, before the years of his Fevers and Companions. Before The Clown had cut him up so many times that practically his entire body had been regrown, piece by piece.

“That will remain to be seen, but I have faith in the boy.” At least someone did.

He opened his eyes to the barest slits to allow the least amount of light in. Even that made his eyes sting and water, but he pushed through the discomfort to try and take in his surroundings. 

He was floating above what looked like an edo period settlement under attack. There were horrifying monster with bone faceses -hollows- he remembered, and his hand twitched with the near forgotten instinct to grasp a weapon and attack.

The hollows had caused nothing less than chaos. Buildings were destroyed and walls had garish splashes of blood and visceral maring their white surface. Figures in black were struggling to fend off the monster, but were horribly outnumbered. 

Even as Ichigo watched, a squad of the figures were slaughtered by a hollow with a dogs head bearing tusks. The last member of the squad was impaled by the monster tusks and their body went limp and even as the hollow began to devour their dead comrades. 

He knew he should try to do something. He felt it in the deepest recesses of his mind, the instinct to pick up a weapon and wreak devastation. He once again tried to summon a blade that he somehow knew he used to wield. But the most he could do is curl his hand into a fist against the chest of whoever was carrying him.

“You see? He still has some recognition of his surroundings, which is more than most of Kurostachi’s unfortunate subjects have after even half the time in his care.” Kurostachi? He knew that name from somewhere, and he felt a shiver of discomfort work it’s way up his spine at the mention of it. Where did he know it from? Did he actually want to know?

“A hand twitch is hardly promising, if anything it’s downright pathetic. He’s probably too far gone to be worth the effort we’re putting into him.”

“I do not believe I asked your opinion on the matter.” The air around the trio grew heavier, pressing down as if gravity had decided that it was sick and tired of being defied by the individual's standing on the goddamn air. 

“However,” The pressure let up as swiftly as it had come, “I see Gin has completed his task and I feel we may have overstayed our welcome.”

A silver haired man joined them. As if on cue, what appeared to be a black tear opened in the sky. The party of four turned their backs on the destruction being wrought below them and entered the garganta. 

The last thing he saw was a black clad corpse being torn apart and devoured by a pair of hollows before the sky closed behind them and his vision faded to black. His body gave out from the strain of everything that had happened. He fell into his first restful slumber in two decades, surrounded by the comforting smell of citrus and pine. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Have there been any changes?” Aizen made his way into the observation room currently occupied by Los Noches’s resident scientist. 

The room was fairly plain, bleached white walls like everything else in the fortress, with the far wall taken up by a two way mirror.Through the mirror was an equally plain room, the only additions were for a bed, table and chair. In the back of the room was a closed door, presumably leading to a washroom. 

Aizen was not interested in the room itself, but the current inhabitant who was sitting with their knees drawn up to their chin and their back against the wall across from the door. 

The Male had striking orange hair, half covered by a bone white mask with a single horn coming out of the side. His skin was deathly, but not inhumanly pale. Dull eyes with black sclera and yellow irises looked blankly at nothing. Numerous scars to cleanly made to have been accidents littered his nearly skeletal atrophied body.

“None so far. Kurosaki has shown no sign of knowing who or where his is. Any attempts at contact have ended in failure as he will attack any individual who enters the room.” Szayel answered, not taking his eyes off the window.

“After he tore up three of my fraccion when they entered to bring him food we’ve started to sedate him for anyone to enter. He will not eat any food left for him, so we’ve had to resort to injection nutrients into his system while he is unconscious.

Aizen frowned.

“ Do we have any idea of what exactly happened to the boy?”

“All attempts to hack into Kurostachis research have yielded no results. Either he kept all research on a personal computer or kept no record at all. We can’t even interrogate the division member you brought us because they didn’t know that their caption had possession of Kurosaki.” Szayel scowled. “They were completely useless so I gave them to my fraccion as a snack.”

“Through observation we can see that he has a much more hollow appearance and can assume that whatever that Clown,“ He said the name with distaste, “did fused Kurosaki with his hollow powers. We can also see scars from numerous lacerations. With his regeneration he shouldn’t have any indication of previous injuries so we can assume that his abilities were somehow repressed. Other than that we know nothing until Kurosaki decides to talk.”

Aizen moved closer to the mirror separating himself from the hybrid.He pressed a button to activate a microphone into the room.

“Kurosaki Can you hear me?” There was no reaction from the boy in question, he continued to gaze without seeing.

“Ichigo? You’re safe here, there is no need to be silent anymore.” The figure simply curled tighter into himself but still did not respond.

“At least we know he can hear us, has he shown response to any other stimulus?” Aizen didn't take his eyes off the man while waiting for a response from his subordinate. 

“Almost nothing. The only non-violent reaction he has had so far has been his attachment to the jacket he was delivered to us in. He has refused to take it off and after we had to sedate him to clothe him in a proper uniform he discarded the jacket we provided and practically tore his room apart looking for the article.”  
Aizen took a moment to ponder the new information. 

The jacket had belonged to Grimmjow, perhaps Kurosaki associated it with his rescue? Maybe he remembered his old rival, after all the man had shown himself to be overly fond of making friends with his opponents during the war. Perhaps that was the key to jumpstarting the hybrids recovery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ichogo stared at the painfully white door set into the painfully white wall in front of him. He refused to be caught unawares again. Years of tourture and experimentation were over and he was never going to be so helpless.

All he needed to do was make sure no one could come near him again. Others had tried, he didn’t know what they came into his territory for but there was no way he would give them a chance to touch him like all those others. 

He was broken out of his silent ravings by the door across from him clicking as it began to open.

He tensed, reading himself to launch at whatever threat came through the door, to defend his space and what dignity he had left. They weren't going to lay another finger or anything else on him!

A familiar scent made its way into the room before whoever was entering got through the door. He felt his body start to relax as he took a deep breath of the smell however faint it was. The lingering traces of it had nearly vanished from his jacket and he had not been looking forward to his small bit of comfort leaving him. 

The source of the scent, a tall blue haired male with a jaw like mask covering half his lower face, sauntered into the room with a shit eating grin on his face. 

Ichigo followed the man with his eyes as he walked from the door of the room to the unused bed where he unceremoniously flopped down to sit.

“Kurosaki, I heard you really did a number on some of Grant’s fraccion. Good to see they didn’t turn you completely pathetic.” 

The man grinned at him, it probably should have been unsettling with the amount of bloodlust that was in his eyes. 

Instead Ichigo felt the urge to grin back, not that he could grin. It had been years since such an expression was on his face and he didn’t think he could even smile again. Even something simple like that seemed to take too much effort.

He was still unsure of this man, even if his presence made him feel safe and comfortable. So he showed no outward sign of hearing other than a slow blink.

“Where’s that fight now huh? I heard you barely let them get through the door before you were tearing them apart. Didn’t you save any of that for me?” 

Ichigo turned to face his visitor but still didn’t respond.

“The fuck you acting all pathetic for? I’ve been waiting over twenty years for a rematch and you can barely even function, it’s fucking sad.”

A rematch? So Ichigo did know the man. He had said that Ichiog had been confined for twenty years before but how did they know each other? 

Ichigo licked his lips nervously, it had been eons since he had tried to talk to another being.

“...who..” It was a feeble attempt to make a word but Ichigo felt rightly proud of himself for being able to make at least something.

“Who? Who what? Ya ain’t making any sense.” The man’s brow furrowed.

“Are you asking who I am?” Ichigo nodded.

“Well damn,” Grimmjow didn’t look impressed. Aizen and Szayel had mentioned that they didn’t know what Kurosaki’s mental state was, but they hadn't said anything about amnesia. 

“Kurosaki,” Szayel’s voice sounded over the speaker in the room. “Would you be willing to tell Grimmjow what you do know?”

Ichigo didn’t react. He wouldn't answer a voice he couldn’t see. A voice that felt cool and impersonal, too analytical. Just like the Clown.

“You gonna answer him?” Grimmjow, the voice had said his name was Grimmjow, asked.

Ichigo glanced at Grimmjow and shook his head. He could answer the man. He knew he was real and he smelt comforting. It was ok to respond to him.

“Would you answer me?” Ichigo nodded than shrugged.

“Ask him if he knows who he is.” Grimmjow rolled his eyes at the window he knew Aizen and Szayel were behind and turned to Ichigo with one eyebrow raised.

The redhead in question shook his head.

“Not even your name?” Grimmjow couldn't help asking. And was rewarded by Ichigo shaking his head again. 

“Fuck, what now?” He asked the window. 

“I suppose you get to tell him. Best start from the beginning.”

~~~~~~~~  
Grimmjow’s visits became a regular occurance for Ichigo. Almost everyday the man would come in and talk. Telling Ichigo about his own history, from becoming a shinigami and breaking into Soul Society to to becoming a war hero. 

He told Ichigo about how Aizen and Satyzel had faked the last battle of the war using stand in arrancar and “some illusion bullshit’’ when it became obvious that they were losing.

Finally he told about Ichigo being declared a threat and betrayed by those he had fought beside. 

During their interactions Ichigo said very little, only a word or two at a time. Mostly relying on nodding of shaking his head. He hardly showed reactions at first and even after everything had been explained he had not shown much emotion. 

Grimmjow held pride for the one time he had almost gotten Ichigo to form a half smile. It was more of an upward twitch on one side of his mouth, but Grimmjow would take his victories where he could get them.

Ichigo looked up when he heard the familiar click of the door opening, he enjoyed the times when Grimmjow came to visit. 

It was a stark contrast from his confinement in the bunker under the twelfth division. Ichigo sometimes thought he had finally snapped and made the whole thing up as a way to escape the endless misery he had endured. 

He forced those thoughts away and looked at his visitor, wondering what they were going to talk about today.

“Oi, Kurosaki. You ready to get out of here? I’ve been instructed to see if you’re up for a grand tour of the place. And a meeting with Aizen.” 

Ichigo tensed at the thought of leaving his haven.

He could not remember the last time he had actually walked around a building. But it was so different here that it should be fine. He would stay close to Grimmjow and it would be fine. He could definitely leave the room if he was near someone familiar. Everything would be alright, all he had to do was get up and walk out the door and stay next to Grimmjow.

Nearly mechanically Ichigo stood and walked towards Grimmjow his face showing no emotion. 

He got to the door and hesitated, did he really want to go out? He knew what to expect in his room. It was safe in his room, Grimmjow would come visit him. In his room no one would touch him or cut him up or do other awful things. He could stay in his room forever, just being visited by Grimmjow . It would be ok, why did he need to leave his room. 

But if he didn’t would Aizen force him to leave? Or worse would they give him back to The Clown- Kurostachi, Grimmjow said that was his name-. He didn’t want to go back. He didn't want to be subject to his Companions anymore. He didn’t want to be in pain and alone anymore. 

GAthering all the resolve he had, and according to what Grimmjow had told him about his past he a a fuckton of it to gather, Ichigo took the final step out of his room and into the equally white hallway.

It wasn’t so bad. Nothing had happened. He took another step, closer to Grimmjow. It was fine, he could do this. All he needed to do was take more steps. If anyone came near him he could tear them up like all those arrancar that came into his room before Grimmjow. He was safe and leaving his room didn’t make him less safe.

Ichigo reached out and grabbed Grimmjow’s sleeve. He may be safe out here but he still wanted contact with something familiar. And being close to Grimmjow and his amazing scent always made him feel more clear headed than any other time. 

Grimmjow just rolled his eyes and started walking to the throne room to see Aizen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also wanted to mention that this story was inspired by In the Grip of Madness by phoenixreal. The stories are going to be vastly different, but if you notice any similarities that's why.


End file.
